


Yule Time Memories

by whimsicalmuse



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-23
Updated: 2004-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:38:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalmuse/pseuds/whimsicalmuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Yuletime, it's Merry, it's Pippin. Nuff said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yule Time Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Shirasade: this story was originally archived at the [Monaboyd.net Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Monaboyd.net), which was closed in September 2014 due to software issues and a lack of new submissions for several years. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in October 2014. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Monaboyd.net Archive collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Monaboyd_Archive/profile).
> 
> \----
> 
> Warnings: Chaya requested “Fluffy smut.” So, warning. Fluff and smut.  
>  A/N: Written for the SS challenge. I ? shirasade for the insta-beta. And a special smooch to thuribrandybuck for offering to beta. This is one of a few M/P I have written, as I am new to this. Hope Chaya enjoyed it.

“Pippin m’boy, I do believe you have had too much spirits tonight.”

Paladin’s voice boomed over the pleasant cacophony of numerous relatives, dogs, and the crackling fire that filled the cozy hall of the great Smial. I turned to the aforementioned hobbit, and found his father’s assessment was noticeably accurate. His rich clear laughter rang like the very bells he had tied around his neck, while he and his sister, Pervinca, were dancing about merrily. The pair was lovely together, both bright-eyed and with cinnamon curls, and both were usually agile on their feet.

 

Tonight however, both had sampled Auntie’s spiced cider rather generously, and the mixture of the hot brew, the warmth of the fire, and the numerous pairs of feet that were lazily jutting out into the center of the floor, made their jig prove to be a disastrous one. Poor Sam paid dearly for their folly, as Pippin fell onto his lap, with a squeal and the ring of many small bells as the necklace fell from his neck and onto the floor. If Frodo hadn’t slipped over to them, and properly admonished Pip for his clumsiness, I was sure Sam would have remained mashed into the chair, stammering slurred apologies for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. As Frodo pulled Pip off of his gardener, he cast me a pointed glance, and my smile wavered at the thought of how I would have enjoyed the feel of his squirming weight, pressing me into the plush armchair. The tightness in my velvet breeches made me shift uncomfortably, and in turn, attracted the attention of my Uncle. “

“Meriadoc, go collect your cousin and put him to bed.”

I almost, almost sprayed my cider all over his nice golden vest, but it was pure luck and the harsh swallow I forced that kept the brew down.

“Yes uncle.”

Of course, I knew he did not know of my affections for the lad, no one save Frodo did, and he would give up a limb before he volunteered that information. Yet years of longing and unfulfilled desire had worn my nerves thin, so it was no surprise that I would be a bit jumpy. Besides, as I had learned from Frodo’s coming of age party, spirits made me a bit reckless and prone to spilling secrets if I was not careful.

I strode across the room purposefully, my face a mask of stern Merry, the responsible hobbit my family saw glimpses of from time to time, especially when young Peregrin was afoot and up to no good without me. The air was sweet with the smell of spice, and the stifling press of bodies, on chairs, the floor, against walls, made me a bit dizzy and eager to collect the lad and leave. When I reached him, I found he was sloppily engaged in conversation with a pretty cousin of mine, whose name I could not recall

“Merry! Where have you been tonight? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

He opened his lips into a full-grown grin, and wrapped an arm around me fondly. The cousin, Bluebell was her name I remembered now, simply smiled politely, though her eyes begged for a reprieve from the energetic Took’s discussion

“I’ve been on the other side of the room, silly. Come on, let’s go back to your room.”

“Oh, but I was having a bit of a chat with…” He turned to face the hobbit but found she had miraculously slipped away, and was now deep in conversation with an older Took cousin. He wrinkled his eyebrows in drunken confusion, then shrugged, and lifted his mug for another sip. I placed my hand over the mouth of the cup, and smiled charmingly at his frown.

“Come on, Pip. Let’s get you to bed.”

We managed to stumble down the halls, past the filled rooms to the family wing, and in turn to his room and antechamber. Usually, when we visited the Smials, we would share my room, therefore the lad would spend his nights on the other end of the hole, but he was going on twenty now, so he was expected to sleep in his own room. I was unsure if this expectation was what had kept us from staying here all winter or not. I knew I was in no hurry to spend a night away from his warmth, especially on a bitter cold night, but I was sure my reasons for loathing our arrival here were altogether different from his. He simply would miss the company of his cousin and all the opportunities he would have to antagonize me, as well as the many mornings he would rouse me before the birds, his sharp mind already full of activities and schemes for the day. It was the realization that his routine would be broken that bothered the lad the most, and he bemoaned our fate from Hobbiton to his family’s lodgings.“

“If you are sleepin’ on the other side of the Smial, half the house will know I’m up and up to something by the time I get to you!”

When we arrived at the thick oak door, he placed his tousled head against it, and the contented hum that buzzed from his throat brought a flush to my cheeks. I would have to make haste and get him cozy and asleep, if I hoped to maintain any shred of my sanity tonight.“

“Come along, Pip. In you go.”

 

I pressed the door open, one arm wrapped around his shoulders so that he might not fall onto his face, and was pleased to see that the maids had stoked the fire and turned down his covers, so that he might retire into warm clean sheets. I led him over to the bed, and leaned him against the comfortable down mattress, while I fished in his drawers for a warm nightshirt.

“That was a nice party wasn’t it Pip? Though, nothing will ever be as grand as Bilbo’s party.”

“Aye, it was. I still remember that night. You had so much ale, Frodo kept a chamber pot by your bed all night, for fear that you would get sick on the good sheets he just inherited.”

I chuckled, surprised that he could remember after so much time

“Merry?”

The clarity and softness of his voice startled me, and I jumped slightly.

“Yes, Pip?”

“Do you remember that night?”

I puzzled at his words and shrugged, still fishing for a nightshirt in a sea of weskits and braces. Perhaps I was in the wrong drawer. I heard him rustle behind me, and the telltale sound of a fine silk weskit hitting the floor made me cluck my teeth.

“Put it on the chair, slob.”

I didn’t have to turn around to see the indigent yet impressed expression on his face.

“Back at Bilbo’s party, you told me something that night, when everyone began to clear out, and we went back to Bag-End.”

I froze for a moment, the barest of gestures really, shocked that he would remember,

“I-I don’t recall, Pip. As you pointed out, I had my share that evening.”

“Mmm, and so have I tonight. That is probably why I have the nerve to ask you. I swiped my share of the homebrew that day too, so you probably thought I was asleep when you told me. But I wasn’t.”

My fib was quickly unraveling, and I knew pretending I was unaware of what he was referring to would not last me much longer. Soon he would grow petulant and angry, and the lad had a tendency to throw things when he was upset. Nightshirt finally retrieved, I turned around to face him, and the looming question between us.

“What did you hear me say, Pippin?”

The first few pearl buttons were undone, and the shadows of the fire flickered on his long pale neck. I licked my lips, and met his eyes.

“You told me you loved me, Merry.”

I smiled, and handed him the nightshirt. He took it, but made no effort to move. He wanted an answer.“

Of course I love you, Pippin. You are my best friend, and favorite cousin, though I’ll have to kill you if you tell Frodo.”

I expected his easy smile to light up his face, but none came.

“You told me, you were in love with me, Meriadoc.”

I felt my throat as it ran dry, and I was suddenly desperate for the nightshirt to be in my hands, so that I might have something to keep them occupied. I squirmed under his emerald gaze, which was unwavering, and unreadable.

“So I did, “ I replied softly. “Does that upset you?”

I prayed he would at least still desire my companionship as a friend and would look past the drunken mistake I had made.

“Depends, Merry.” He wrapped his hand around the bedpost, and looked down at the freshly swept floor.

“Do you still love me as you did then?”

This, this was a question I could answer.

“No.”

He looked up at me sharply, and I was surprised by the glitter in his eyes. I could feel him withdrawing, and immediately regretted my answer.

“Pippin, I-“

“Leave, Merry.”

“You don’t understand, I-“

“Leave!”

He wrinkled his eyebrows and pulled me roughly from my place in the center of the floor, eyes downcast and jaw tense. I dug my heels into the floor and placed the palm of my hand on the door, halting our departure.

‘”Listen to me,” I growled, and snatched my arm from his grasp.

“I don’t love you as I did then, because Pip, I hardly understood what I was offering you then.” I took a shuddery breath and continued.

I remembered the crisp night, the noise, the shock of Bilbo’s insane departure, and the heady feeling of ale in my belly. Pippin was flushed and effervescent that night, and we ran around like children, mugs in hand, smiles nearly cracking our faces. He goaded me into following him into the tool shed, mischief gleaming in his eyes, but when we got there the dry warm hay was more inviting than whatever trouble he could muster, and he collapsed with a breathy sigh. I remember the autumn moon shone bright on his face, and he looked elven in my eyes. For the first time in my short life, I understood what it was to belong to someone completely, and even in my drunken stupor I had sense enough to be frightened.

“Pippin, I told you I loved you, that I felt I belonged to you, and always would. That much is still the true. But I have changed Pippin and you have changed. You’re growing up, and every day I see you in a new light, therefore, it is impossible to love you as I loved you then. But the sentiment has not changed, merely grown with us.”

He smiled shyly, unwrapped his fingers from the waist of my breeches, and the effects of the brew seemed to hit him, and he swayed. I chuckled, and steadied him.

“I’ve made a fool of myself, and I nearly kicked you out. I’m sorry Merry.” His voice, though a bit slurred, betrayed the foolishness he felt, and I tilted his cheek up to soothe him.

“Nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry you’re so knackered that you won’t remember this in the morning, because right now, Pip, I’d really like to kiss you.”

His eyelids drooped, and he let out a soft laugh and nuzzled my neck sleepily. I felt my body stir violently, and allowed myself the pleasure of tangling my fingers in his hair.

“Come on, Pip.”

I pulled him away from the door, and he pulled off his shirt and tore at his breeches without putting much thought into the action. He climbed into bed, and I ruffled his hair and kissed him on the forehead, smiling at the sight of his rosy cheeks and baby lips. It was only when I pulled away from the kiss, that his eyes opened up and the clarity I saw there surprised me. Perhaps he wasn’t as besotted or sleepy as I thought.

“Merry, stay with me.” He worried his lips, and I hesitated, my groin sure of the new meaning behind words he had uttered in innocence many times before.

“Pip, I don’t know if I should. Uncle might be displeased,” He pulled a face, my excuse sounding hollow, even to me. Paladin would assume his son and nephew merely fell into a drunken slumber, especially after the display Pippin made before leaving.

“You need time to digest what I’ve told you, you might not even remember in the morning.”

“I remembered last time Merry.” He smiled at me, as if talking to a small child.

“You need time to decipher how you feel, I mean, you’ve not even kissed me Pip-“

“I’ll have to remedy that,” he murmured, and planted his lips on mine. He tasted spicy, like the cider he had, and his little sharp teeth grazed over my lip and elicited a soft gasp.

 

“Now, can you sleep with me?” I opened my mouth, feigning a scandalized gasp, and relented. Try as he might, I knew we would be asleep within moments, for though he was more alert than I thought, he was certainly exhausted.

I dug into his drawers, and produced a nightshirt for myself, glad that the shirt was so big on Pippin that it would fit my broader build. He scooted over with a contented hum, and within moments he was curled against me, his breath pushing through the shirt and tickling my chest.

“Good-night, Pip.”

“Good-night, Merry.”

I snuffed out the candle, and closed my eyes, sleep pouring over me like a fog.

“Oh, and Merry?”

“Hmm?” “I love you, too.”

I smiled into the shadows and kissed his forehead.

*

I awoke several hours later, to the feeling of something warm and damp clamped around my nipple. My eyes shot open and thin fingers pressed over my lips to shush me. It was but an hour at best before dawn, I knew this by the pale gray hue that bathed the room, illuminating Pippin‘s cheeky smile and lithe body sprawled atop me. He trailed kisses down from my neck, pausing to graze teeth over my collarbone. I tangled my fingers in his curls, reveling in their silkiness, and he continued his ministrations, until he came to my erection, which was pressing against his torso

.“Pip,” I whispered, hoping my soft voice would carry. “We don’t have to-“

Any words I might have had were stifled by my hand, which flew to my mouth when he tore off his nightshirt and then pressed his heat against mine. The contact of his hardened silk against me, the sweet friction of it all, took my breath away, and I grit my teeth to stay quiet. His closed his eyes, a contented smile on his face, and, tucking his arms under my shoulders, began to rock with me.

Instinctively, my legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to me, as our bodies grew slick with the sheen of sweat and the fluids from our arousal. I could smell us- spice, musk, and scent of dry wood filling the room. Every gasp was swallowed by a soft decisive kiss. He lay his head in the crook of my neck and mouthed words of love and silent gasps, searing the my skin that was covered in gooseflesh from the cool morning air. My eyes rolled back into my head, as our hands snaked between us, our fingers intertwined and cradling our erections together, as we thrust up into the dry heat. I could feel the tension spiking in my belly, and my thighs began to quiver warningly. I was at the edge of a precipice when I heard his soft voice, breathy and full of the affection, a sound I had waited so long to hear.

“Open you eyes Merry,” he whispered and choked back a hiss. “I want you to see how I love you.” I obeyed, and in doing so, succumbed to my own undoing, as the reflection of myself, and love, shone bright in his eyes, growing ever brighter as the sun rose. His release followed my own, moments later, and he fell atop me, his limp body forcing all the air from my lungs.

We lie tangled in one another for several moments, until at length I mustered the energy to pull myself from the bed and wet a cloth in the washbasin to clean up. He winced at the contact of the cool cloth, but dared not make a noise as the servants would be up for sure by now, already bracing the house for the onslaught of houseguests would be ravenous in a few hours. Once clean and properly dressed in nightclothes again, I held him close and kissed his rosy cheeks with a sigh. Morning would be upon us soon, and in the light of day we would have to face what lay between us, but for now I would enjoy the feel of him, relaxed, warm and in my arms. He snuggled in deeper, and yawned.

“Merry?”

“Yes, Pip?”

“I love you. This was the best Yule ever.”

I smiled and planted a kiss on top of his curls, a smile on my face. As sleep once again claimed me, the gray light faded to pale yellow, slowly brightening our room. I closed my eyes, and willed myself to enjoy the last hours of sleep.

“I love you, Pippin.”

Sleep finally took me, and I knew no more.


End file.
